The slow work of defrost now fans across
my breath-covered windshield. Fingertips jam
against the receipt-scraps of my evening.
I catch some movement through the glass: a girl,
half the height of a Christmas tree.
She’s crawling up into a window display advertising: Buy
one get one free.
Her face is fixed on a tidy pyramid of ornaments.
They almost match her earmuffs,
of candy apple red.
She’s hanging the globes, shoulder to shoulder, on one
With her back to the ever-scrolling crowd
(which does not see her either)
she dots the flocked tree with color.
I leave my car in park.
She’s making room for the last of the baubles,
while occasionally sweeping their price tags
just out of her eyes.
All poetry and photography on this site by Bethany Rohde.